Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned
by Blondie47
Summary: Set during 3x3: Which Witch is Which? My take on how Miss Hardbroom wanted to solve the situation at first. And why her plan failed.  a little bit of  FEMSLASH.


_**AN: A little fanfic set during 03x03: Which Witch is Which?. The idea suddenly came to be while chatting with HB's Favorite - many thanks to you, giiirl! Some names in the fanfic belong to whoever created Charmed and one line belongs to JK Rowling - you will know which one. Everything else belongs to the producers of the Worst Witch and Jill Murphy. Lots of femslash ahead. Enjoy and comment.:)**_

_'Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned; Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.'_ ~ William Congreve

/

"Despise the dreadful consequences, it is an honor to meet you face to face," said Miss Hardbroom to the famous witch after she scolded Fenella and Griselda for messing with time traveling.

The witch offered her a small smile, nodding a little: "It will be no honor if this castle falls on you!"

Miss Hardbroom had to admit Lucy Fairweather looked different than she imagined. She always thought all the powerful old witches were – well, _old_ – and royal, much like her grandmother used to be. And there _she_ was, a young woman in her twenties with caring light blue eyes, freckles sprinkled on her skin and short, old-fashioned cut ginger hair. If it wasn't for her old English accent, she could easily pass as one of their students. Just when Miss Hardbroom was about to ask her what spell she was planning to use to finish off the evil Harriet Hogweed (curiosity always being one of her traits), the doors to the Great Hall swung open and a dark-haired woman followed by Ethel Hallow's younger sister run in, looking around for someone. Her eyes landed on Lucy Fairweather and she frowned, obviously angry.

"Th's false! You are not Lucy Fairweather! I name you Harriet Howeed!" the dark woman spat out with hate.

Everybody in the Great Hall reacted to this accusation in their own way – Fenella made a confused face, Sybill Hallow's mouth hung open in surprise and Miss Crotchet cried out: "Good heavens! Who are you?"

"She says she's Lucy Faiweather!" Sybill explained, still confused about what was happening.

Miss Hardbroom tried to make sense of it, too, but her intelligence was not enough to figure out what was going on. If they both claimed to be the great witch then one of them had to be lying. She tried to read their faces for any typical signs of lying (after all those lies from the girls she'd been hearing for the last ten years, she'd mastered the art of revealing a liar) but all she could see was determination and anger in their eyes.

"Do not listen to this imposter! You are evil and must be destroyed!" the Ginger said, unconsciously protecting the group of people behind her with her hand. But was that really unconsciously or was it a planned act so she would seem protective? The deputy couldn't decide.

"Then let this be our battlefield!" the Brunette proclaimed, rushing towards the Ginger, raising her hands in the air to attack her.

With those words, all hell broke loose at Cackle's Academy and Miss Hardbroom knew it was going to be up to her to find out which witch was telling the truth. Another one of those tasks that will certainly not be reflected on her paycheck.

/

The two witches seemed to be matched in powers, sending deadly curses at each other with a dangerous frequency. When Miss Cackle and Miss Drill came with some of the girls from climbing (no matter what Miss Drill was saying about teamwork and love of nature, Miss Hardbroom still found it a waste of time) a spell flew their direction and they were just centimeters away from becoming a pile of dust. The deputy explained what was going on and Miss Cackle made a half-humorous remark about '_Which witch is which'_. Miss Drill was looking back and forth at Constance and Amelia, trying to figure out just how serious the situation was. She knew battling witches were probably serious enough to be worried but her inexperience in the history of witchcraft did not make her feel as frightened as her two colleagues looked like.

"Mildred Hubble, Maud Moonshine – find Ruby Cherrytree, then meet us in the Great Hall. The rest of you girls get every pupil in the school and bring them to the Great Hall _immediately_!" Miss Hardbroom ordered around and before Miss Drill had the time to ask what was her role in all that, everybody run off to different directions.

Oh, how she hated to be left out from all the interesting stuff.

/

There was one little fun fact Miss Hardbroom knew about Harriet Hogweed that most witches did not know or did not care to remember. When she was a young girl, learning about the wicked witches of the medieval times, they had a rather eccentric teacher who would always put little 'fun facts' into their boring history lessons and therefore history became a fairly popular subject at her school. Little had she known that one day the useless information might actually come to be quite useful. She remembered when they discussed the issues of female freedom during the feudal system that their teacher mentioned that Harriet Hogweed was quite a rebel in her time – refusing to marry to a wizard or any other man. After one really outspoken girl commented that she must have been a '_frigid old thing'_, the teacher said:

"Oh, no, not at all, Miss Halliwell! Harriet Hogweeds was a very passionate woman and for stealing the King's wives, armies would be sent after her! Possibly the most famous women-lover in her times indeed."

Back then, that information amused the class. Some twenty years later, the information gave Miss Hardbroom an idea how to find out who was the wicked witch and who was the good witch.

She would simply have to flirt a little to find out.

/

It didn't take long for Miss Hardbroom to find one of the women who were claiming to be Lucy Fairweather – she was leaning against a wall in the hallway, breathing heavily as if she was running a moment ago. It was the Brunette who caused all this confusion when claiming the other was false. Miss Hardbroom took a good look at her before speaking.

The witch was tall and thin, her dark brown hair braided in two braids with a red bow tangled in them, an old fashioned hair-style that was common before the invention of hair band. Her face had sharper feeling to it than the Ginger's – her jaw was stronger and her nose pointed down instead of up. It could be said she was an attractive woman and that made Miss Hardbroom's plan even easier.

"Ah, here you are!" the deputy exclaimed and quickly walked over to her with a perfectly acted out relief. "I was looking for you everywhere," she lied.

"You must make a terrible decision whom to offer your help, Madame. I cannot imagine the weight on thy shoulders," Brunette spoke in a calm voice. Maybe she thought she would be questioned by the teacher.

"I have made my decision_, Lucy Fairweather_ and my decision is to serve you," Miss Hardbroom said, taking a small step closer to Brunette. The proclamation took the woman by surprise and she seemed to be thinking for a moment before allowing Miss Hardbroom to step into her personal space.

"There is no way someone as beautiful as you could ever be wicked - every fool has to see that. Your beauty speaks of goodness and tenderness and I fell under your spell the moment you appeared in the doors earlier," Miss Hardbroom continued, speaking slowly and in a low, seductive tone.

"May I ask for your name, my lady?" the other woman almost whispered.

"Mistress Constance Hardbroom," she looked deeply in the witch's eyes, trying to sound as erotic as it possible while revealing one's name. Brunette smiled a little, her blue eyes travelling from Constance's lips to her deep brown eyes and back.

"I have known a Hardbroom in my younger years. Prudence Hardbroom, the wife of the wizard of the north Mountains was her name. Shall you be connected in blood with the said witch?"

The deputy bit her lower lip pretending to be thinking and then seductively running her tongue over it, trying to look unaware of how sexy it was.

"A distant relative, I suppose."

"Ah, that must be it then. She was very…" a wicked smile appeared on Brunette's lips "…loud."

Constance had to admit, she was enjoying herself a little too much. She gave so much effort into the acting that she forgot to evaluate whether the woman pinned against the wall was Harrier Hogweed or Lucy Fairweather. She seemed attracted to her but _maybe_ she was only being polite…alright, that was a lie. Constance was _sure _the brunette responded positively to her flirting. She must have been the evil witch then. Just to be completely sure, Constance decided to do one more thing.

"Shall you be interested in finding out whether the loud behavior was passed to me from dear old Prudence?" she put her hands on Brunette's hips.

"Ay, that is indeed a question that would haunt my mind if not answered."

Just as Constance leaned in to kiss the witch, someone materialized a few meters away from them. The both turned their heads to see who it was.

"Harriet Hogweed, how dare you continue your wicked betrays here, after all you've done! Does my heart and my love mean nothing to you?" the other Lucy Fairweather shouted, angry tears in her eyes.

Brunette immediately pushed Constance off of her. "You must stop that nonsense at once, my beautiful lady. You know my heart only belongs to you, Harriet Hogweed!"

"I shall not be betrayed any longer by your wicked lust and even though my heart shall break with the act, I am destined to destroy you and your wickedness!" Ginger started reciting a spell.

"Dissiseo!" the tall brunette said and disappeared, leaving Constance and Ginger alone. She shot her an evil _you-don't-mess-with-my-girl_ look and theatrically disappeared as well.

Miss Hardbroom was left alone in the hallway, with her plan completely ruined by what she had just discovered: Harriet was not the only famous women-lover in her time. There was also Lucy Fairweather, the good witch, who never married for she was – according to the history textbooks –_ too pure to be ravished._

_Well, she obviously wasn't pure enough not to sleep with the wickedest witch there ever was,_ Constance thought as she was walking back into the Great Hall to instruct the girls to get out of the castle. She would have to think of a new plan how to stop the battling lovers.

'_Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."_

It was going to be a difficult evening.

/

In the end, much to Miss Hardbroom's irritation, it was Mildred Hubble who came out with a fairly simple plan to tell apart a good witch from a wicked witch: the deputy had to pretend she was going to turn Mildred into a tree and the true good witch stopped her (as she correctly assumed, it was Ginger). Then they turned the evil witch into a turtle and helped to get Lucy Fairweather back to her own times.

Miss Cackle allowed the girls to have a little celebration and Miss Tapioca made the a special pizza dinner where everybody talked about history coming alive and what they thought of the witches (Fenella and Griselda collected the money they made by letting the girls bet who was the good witch – Miss Hardbroom had no idea when they had the times for such activities).

/

Later that night, when Constance slipped into bed next to Imogen, she wrapped her arms around the gym mistress and lovingly kissed her shoulder.

"What was that for?" Imogen asked, amused at the sudden cuddliness of the usually up-tight witch.

"For being a non-witch, my dear. When you and I fight, it is a disaster. But when two _witches_ fight – it is a catastrophe."

Imogen smiled and gave her girlfriend a small kiss. All was well.


End file.
